Get Out Alive Trilogy Part 1: Our Solemn Hour
by Nymphadora-CullenBAU
Summary: Ian Doyle returns to America, intent on revenge. Emily Prentiss returns to protect her team. Circumstances lead a team member into Doyle's clutches. Story 1/3; Chapter 5/5 COMPLETED! CHARACTER DEATH IN CHAPTER 2
1. Prologue

_**This is part one of the Get Out Alive Trilogy; if you haven't read the Preview, please do so (But you don't have to).**_

_**Warning for Slight Violence.**_

_**I don't own Criminal Minds!**_

….

_Those who plot the destruction of others often perish in the attempt. ~ Thomas Moore_

The housing market had been hit hard by the recent economy, and this small suburb outside of Boston was no exception. There was a small abandoned housing development; some of it was populated with junkies and prostitutes looking for shelter and a bed, either to pass out in after a high, or for conduction business.

Each of these houses was big, about the size of a small mansion. There were three levels: a large ground level with spacious kitchens and living rooms with the master bedroom off to the side. The second floors were large lofts that overlooked the lower level, also with a bedroom on one end. The basements were large and split into various rooms; some of the walls were completed, and some were just studs of wood separating each room.

But among the empty houses, there was one at the edge of the posting. It was one of the few that were actually completed; it was supposed to be the model house and was furnished with couches, chairs and plastic food, television and computer screens.

A group of men, about 25 of them, were spaced throughout this one house. About ten of them were resting in the loft area of the house, watching a movie on a laptop or sleeping. Another seven were resting in the main living room, playing cards or watching movies on the stolen television one of them had commandeered from the drug lord they had shot when they had stormed the house.

In the basement were the last five. They were pouring over maps and official-looking documents, discussing battle strategies. Among them was an older man, obviously the leader of the houseful of men, who watched the proceedings like a hawk, his face showing no emotion.

One of the men, an older man who appeared to be the same age as the leader, turned to the man. "How's the prisoner?"

The man stared at his lieutenant. "I'm going to check on him," was the short reply.

The man nodded, watching as the leader left the small group and walked toward the back corner of the basement.

When the man reached a door, he inserted a key hanging from his belt and let himself into the room. The only furniture in the room was a wooden desk and a mattress stripped of the mildewed blankets that had been laid on it when the house was new. On the bed now was a figure, his face hidden from his captor by the darkness of the room. The older man reached up, pulling a thin string connected to a single, bare light bulb. The man once again looked at the figure.

Though he was still in shadow, the other person in the room could still be seen as a dark silhouette in the corner. While the figure's clothes were unidentifiable, it was clear the he was blindfolded, his hands were bound behind his back, and his ankle was shackled to the footboard of the bed.

"I hope you have found the accommodations to your satisfaction," the older man jeered as me moved toward the figure on the bed. The figure didn't move; his head was turned away from the older man and was facing the wall the door had opened from.

"It doesn't matter," the shackled man replied in a low monotone. "I'm not telling you. I don't know anything, and even if I did, I still wouldn't tell you."

In response, the older man slammed his fist on the surface of the dresser. "Tell me!" Ian Doyle snarled. "NOW!"

The younger man turned his blindfolded head toward his captor. "I don't need to," he whispered. "They're coming for me, and you won't stand a chance when they arrive."

Doyle responded by whipping his gun from his belt and cracking it across the face of the person in front of him. "When they find you," he hissed at his bleeding, whimpering hostage. "You will either be dead, or my human shield to keep me alive."

….

_A/N: Yikes! ...Who thinks this should be rated M?_

_Please review! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	2. Sanctus Espiritus

**_YAY! The problem fixed itself! :D_**

**_...Let me explain my lack of updates with this fic: Part writer's block, part schoolwork, part questioning if anyone even LIKED it... I actually started writing another fic with this same idea, and it... Well, I'm still deciding if I should continue with it; it's a really good idea in my opinion. _**

**_Anyway, leaving for the Jersey Shore Friday/Tomorrow morning (Early); mom said I can bring my computer, but seriously... don't expect updates. _**

**_Warning for Character Death!_**

**_I don't own Criminal Minds!... Darn it!_**

….

**15 Hours Earlier:**

A long figure walked down a street. It wasn't quite sunrise, but the sky was still light with impending daylight. Not that Ashley Seaver seemed to mind. She was used to getting up early, but after leaving the BAU, she hadn't really thought of changing her habits. Working with the White Collar Unit was more her kind of job. There weren't as many bodies, and the hours were different, but she felt like she belonged, or at least could make it through a day without feeling like she was about to lose her lunch.

She paused suddenly at the mouth of an abandoned alleyway when she heard the sound of trash cans clattering and a cat yowling. Not too unusual, she noted before continuing on her way.

A van slowly made its way down the street, passing her at almost the same pace she was walking. Now this was quite suspicious, but it didn't weigh too heavily on Ashley's mind.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked.

The driver didn't reply, but a moment after she'd spoken, the side door slid open and two men jumped out, followed by a third who simply stood and watched. All Ashley managed to get out was a squeak before one of them grabbed her with one hand. She thrashed in his grip, but he held tightly to her struggling body while he hurriedly began fishing something from his jacket. A moment later, a knife slid across Ashley Seaver's throat.

She fell to the ground, blood flowing from her neck; her hand scrabbled for a second at the wound for a second in a half-hearted attempt to stop the blood flow, but it flopped to the ground. A moment later, someone kicked her body over so that she was lying on her back before plunging the knife several more times into her stomach.

The last thing she saw was one of the men, the watcher, producing a lighter and a thin, white-hot metal stick the size of a pen, grabbing her wrist and smiling as he began to draw.

As soon as he was finished, Ian Doyle lifted the now cooling utensil from the dead woman's arm and slid it into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" one of the men asked, looking at the impromptu tattoo on the victim's arm.

"Sending a message," Doyle replied. "When her old teammates get her case, they'll be looking to stop me. If I'm lucky, they may call _her _back into the country. Then, it's only a matter of fetching the bait, and she'll come to me, only so I can watch her face when I end the live of one of those profilers she been so determined to save." He paused, cocking his head at the rising sun now lighting up the street. "And then, when she's broken over the loss of her friend, I'll end her life."

**10 Hours Earlier:**

JJ made her way briskly into the bullpen within the BA. She had only been back for a month and already things were looking grim. She passed by Reid's desk, ignoring his cheery wave, which wilted as she bustled past. She noticed Rossi looking up from his paperwork, confusion written on his face as she rushed toward Hotch's door.

Without knocking, she entered briskly. Hotch looked up, face set in a grim line. "We've got a bad one," she stated.

Immediately, Hotch stands up and follows her out of his office. He glances into the bullpen to see Reid and Morgan, the latter having just arrived. "Conference room. Now," Hotch barks as he knocked on Rossi's door and repeated the same tense order. As he enters the conference room, he sees that Reid has dashed out of the office and has returned with Garcia trailing behind him. Hotch now sits at the round table and watches both entrances into the room as Rossi and Morgan come in one way, and Garcia and Reid through another.

"Five victims," JJ began without prompting. "All in the DC area, all with the same distinct wound pattern." Garcia worked the projector and the pictures came to life. "And all lying by dumpsters in the residential areas."

"Steven Ross," a young man with curly brown hair. "Alexander Harrington," a man in a business suit. "Jessica Jordan," a blonde dressed in a three-piece suit of a garnish salmon pink. "And Devon Mitchells," an African American man.

"Who was the fifth victim?" Morgan asked.

For the first time that morning, JJ looked sick. "I was just getting to that; it was also why DC Metro gave us the case as soon as they ID'd her."

Garcia clicked the projector, and the entire team gasped.

"Ashley Seaver," JJ confirmed grimly.

Meanwhile, Reid was studying the crime scene photos from Ashley's case when he stopped suddenly on one picture in particular. "JJ," he asked. "Did any of the other victims have something on their wrists?"

"No, Spence," JJ responded. "Why?"

Reid turned the picture to face the table at large. "The four-leaf clover," he replied. "I remember it… It was Ian Doyle's mark, the tattoo he used to identify the members of his group. It was branded on Seaver's wrist."

"You think Doyle's back?" JJ asked tersely.

"If he is, he's looking for revenge," Rossi completed.

"Rossi, Morgan, I want you at the crime scene now. Reid, start making a geographical profile, JJ, you and Garcia need to alert the media. Afterwards, I need to have Garcia run background on our victims. Why did Doyle target them, and what message is he trying to send?"

"Actually," Rossi muttered. "If you look closely enough, you can see that they all resemble us in some way. Devin looks like he could be Morgan's cousin, and Jessica looks a lot like JJ and Seaver. Also, Steven and Alexander look like Reid and Hotch."

"They even have the same initials," Garcia added. "S.R could also mean Spencer Reid; A.H for Aaron Hotchner; JJ of course, for our own JJ; D.M for Derek Morgan." Her face paled at the realization. "I'm halfway to my computers as we speak," she gasped as she ran from the room, tottering on her high heels.

"Also, no one leaves this office, or the police station without an escort," Hotch added as he left the room.

"What about you," Morgan asks as Hotch makes his way toward his office.

"…I need to make a phone call," he answered Morgan as he shut the door to his office; Hotch picked up the phone quickly, already dialing the secret number that he knew by heart.

As soon as the party on the other line answered, Hotch wastes no time in explaining the details. "Ian Doyle's back," he states grimly. Then, he pauses. "You're where?" he asks. "Okay; we'll see you in 8 hours." Another pause. "I know; I just hope we all are ready for him."

...

_A/N: I guess I should have said that the rating question was rhetorical... But thanks, guys! ...Don't shoot the author! **cowers**_

_Special thanks to: kp4377, greengirl82, smg55, Reidemption, and Emmy73Criminal Minds ...My awesome reviewers!_

_Again, very sorry about the (long) delay, and please leave a review!_

_Seriously, let me know what you think of the chapter, the story... the alternate idea; let me know if you want more information on that! :D_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	3. Redeem Us From Our Solemn Hour

_**Hi everyone!**_

_**In case you're wondering, yes, I got out of the East Coast before Hurricane Irene hit New Jersey; we were supposed to stay from Saturday to Saturday, but she chased us out a day early. Plus, I felt the aftershock of that earthquake in Virginia; my mom didn't feel a thing, so when I told her, she didn't believe me. The bragging rights at school for this summer's events will be BRILLIANT! **_

_**Also, we spent a day in NYC... I saw them filming White Collar, which is one of my favorite USA TV shows; I didn't actually get to meet Tim DeKay, but I did get a picture of him in the park. Another thing (Person) I saw... Matthew Gray Gubler! In the window of ALDO shoes in NYC! Best moment ever! And probably the closest I'll ever get to meeting him in real life...**_

_**But it was still AWESOME! :D**_

_**Anyway, I don't own Criminal Minds... They would have had a case take place in my home state of Minnesota by now (And I hope there will be a Minnesota-based case this season).**_

...

**8 Hours Earlier**

A woman exits an airplane, accompanied by a sandy haired gentleman.

Clyde Easter looks at his traveling companion. "Are you sure about this?" he asks. The last ten hours on that plane had taken it out of the already weary man; he had seen so much death and loss, more so in the last year than he had on most missions. His team was all but lost, all of them dead, save for one.

The figure nodded. "I'm very certain," she says.

Unconsciously, her hand brushes against her chest, almost as if an old scar is still burning.

"We'll get him, Darling," Clyde whispered softly. "And when we do, I will personally see to it that his corpse is left to rot in some remote sinkhole somewhere in the Sahara if possible."

The woman chuckled. "You were always good at keeping your word, Clyde," she replied, moving her hand from the spot on her torso that it had been sitting at.

"But there are others who can keep their word just as well as me," Clyde reminded her.

"I know." As she spoke, her mind drifted to six individuals, people she hadn't seen in so long. It was almost a chore to remember their faces, but once she did, the memories all came back in a heartbeat.

She missed them. She knew that they had missed her. But it was their reaction to her return that she feared now more than anything that Ian Doyle could do to her.

The hand that had rested on her torso still seemed to burn and she clenched the hand into a fist to preserve that burn.

Of course, Emily Prentiss also feared their reaction more than anything Ian Doyle had _already _done.

**6 Hours Earlier (Off-Base Parking Garage)**

The SUV Morgan had returned in chirped as Reid walked past him, heading for another SUV farther down the line.

"How's your geographical profile?" Morgan asked.

"Right now, there's really no pattern," Reid admitted. "All the victims were killed throughout the city, and all of them, with the exception of Ashley, have the same wound pattern."

"That's correct," Morgan pointed out. "A slash across the neck, followed by a pattern of stab wounds around the torso. And always in the same shape, which is odd, considering."

"Considering what?" Reid asked, taking a paper from the file Morgan had just set on the front of the car.

"Remember The Angel Maker?"

At this, Reid glanced at Morgan with a stare that could only be translated to "Seriously?"

"What?"

"Morgan," Reid sounded exasperated. "I have an eidetic memory; I remember that case like it was last week. Plus, each case we take has some way of implanting itself in my memory, even if I didn't have an eidetic memory."

"And what detail is that, Pointdexter?"

"When Rossi asked me what I needed to crack the code that the Angel Maker's letters were written in, I told him 'The ability to clone myself and a year's supply of Adderol,' and he said 'I'll put on the coffee.'"

Morgan grinned. "Of course you'd remember someone offering you to make coffee."

"But that was when I figured out about the code, and then…. Well, Emily…."

"Emily figured out that our killer was carving the constellations into her victim's bodies, yeah I remember." Morgan admitted. "So are you saying that these patterns are constellations on the victims' bodies?"

"No, Morgan; what I'm trying to say is that the shamrock-"

But Reid never got a chance to say what was on his mind, because a second later, gunshots rang out through the garage. Morgan cursed drawing his gun and shoving Reid under the SUV they had been standing by as a black cargo van screeched past them.

Reid wasted no time, rolling under the SUV and crawling out the other side, dashing out for behind the cars and running toward a wooden door at the back of the garage; Morgan had ducked behind the SUV and watched in horror as the van swerved toward the direction his friend had run, pausing only to let two men leap from the side door and into the door Reid had just escaped through before making its way down to the exit.

"Reid!" Morgan howled, drawing his gun and racing after the van's occupants and his teammate. He opened the door to that Reid had run through, only to be met with the business end of a wooden bat; Morgan's last coherent thought was the realization that this case had been a trap from the beginning, and that hopefully Reid would get away….

Reid dashed down the sidewalk of a nearly deserted street; stray alley cats hissed and scooted out of the way with their backs arched, moving like bits of paper in the wind. There was a crashing noise and Reid looked over his shoulder to see the van breaking through the garage and barreling toward him.

Reid turned down a side alley and threw himself at a wooden door. It flew open and the young man fell through it, landing in the hallway of a run-down apartment building. Quickly, he leapt to his feet and continued down the hall; he felt his knee twinge from the landing and his gait favored that knee for that reason as he reached the other side of the apartment. He threw open another wooden door and took off down the road again.

"There he is!" a voice sounded and Reid felt his heart plummet as two figures ran at him from the other side of the apartment building. Reid continued to run, but he tripped on a crack and landed in a heap on the ground at the foot of the curb. Shaking, he attempted to get up, but was cut off when the van pulled up across from where he lay. Seconds later, a shadow fell over Reid and thick hands were holding him, forcing him into a standing position. He yelped as weight was put on his injured knee and one hand slapped itself over his mouth as a result, while another one stabbed him in the neck with a needle. Reid struggled but it was too late to stop the effects of the substance in his system; instead, he felt himself detach from reality as another set of hands guided him forward, the van's sliding side door opened and his vision clouded just as he locked eyes with a third person in the back of the van.

Ian Doyle waited while his men loaded the unconscious figure into the van before reaching into the man's pocket to withdraw his identification.

"Leave his gun and phone," Ian demanded as he opened the wallet to reveal the badge of his newest hostage. "We need to get him back before the drug wears off; I have a lot planned for our young doctor."

...

_A/N: Yes, I'm evil, especially since I have no idea when I'll update this next, especially with school so close to starting and my schedule currently unpredictable. I was up north right now for Labor Day Weekend, and I just moved into my fall residence hall on Monday. Plus, I have a lot of things I have to do, which is mostly schedule voice lessons and violin lesson (I haven't practiced either one all summer... that won't end well...), buy textbooks (One I had to order on Amazon. It was two cents! Score!), check out when and where my classes are (And then time how fast I can get to them) and some other things... :D_

_Enough of my problems!_

_Thanks to all my reviewers: Chrissiemusa, criminally charmed, lolyncut, Emmy73CriminalMinds, Kiraclara, kp4377, greengirl82, Reidemption, smg55, awsome1000, LauraMaeH94, and Alison Burns._

_Chrissiemusa: Thank you, and free virtual apple pie for figuring out the song reference! :D_

_And don't forget to review! :D_

_Love, _

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	4. Insanity Is All Around Us

_**Hey everyone!**_

_**I've officially started class, so updates might be, and probably will be, few and far between, but they will be coming! Cross my heart! ;)**_

_**I basically have the last chapter of this first part of the trilogy done, so I may post that later today or this week; part two is still in the works, and may just be a few chapters before the big showdown in the third installment!**_

_**Also, the results of my season 6 contest are tallied, and the winner is... **Drumroll** ... The-Vampire-Act! Congrats dear! ... And a very big THANK YOU! to Huntress79 for submitting her story; sweetie, you deserve to have your name flashing in lights all around Times Square in NYC because you and The-Vampire-Act were the only people to submit stories and I love you both so very much for bringing this contest to life! **group hugs** :D**_

_**Nine days to Season 7!**_

_**And finally... I don't own Criminal Minds; no really, I don't!**_

...

**3 Hours Earlier**

Cops, EMTs and the BAU swarmed a small parking garage off the Quantico Marine Base, where some of the civillan employees would park their cars, as well as where various members of the BAU stored their vehicles while away on cases.

Morgan was sitting on a gurney in an ambulance, wincing as medics applied gauze and bandages to a bloody gash on the side of his head.

Hotch and Rossi approached from the lower level, taking the main entrance; they had dropped everything and ran to the garage as soon as it had been reported that someone had found a body (An unsuspecting secretary from the lobby who had needed to leave early to pick up a sick child from school; she was being calmed by JJ after the "body" she reported groaned and opened its brown eyes, calling for someone named "Reid").

Morgan winced again before pushing the EMTs away to reach his supervisors. "Reid and I were talking out here when we were attacked," he began earnestly. "It was a black cargo van... The plates were Frank, Tango, Six, Four, Alpha, Zero, and X, like X-Games or X-Files." He paused, catching his breath. "They hit me with a wooden baseball bat and went after Reid. We need to find him."

Rossi had lagged behind while Morgan had conferred with Hotch, and now approached them, stowing his phone and looking grim.

"CSU found Reid's phone and gun about two blocks from here, along with a needle and syringe filled with trace amounts of diazepam," he stated. "I'm willing to bet that Reid ran for it once that van appeared. They gave chase and probably forced him into the van."

Morgan cursed while Hotch pulled out his phone. "Garcia," he started. "We think Reid's been taken by Doyle. I need you to pull up the security footage of this garage as well as any outside cameras on the street that were recording; I want to know where this guy came in, where he came out and how he managed to get the jump on Morgan and Reid."

"I- I um," Garcia was sitting in her office as she listened to Hotch's words; her hand started trembling, and as a result she knocked over a colorful flower pot that contained a vast majority of pens. "I… I can do that," she whispered, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes.

"And Garcia?"

She looked up at the phone, eyes sparkling with tears.

"….I know how you feel about this….We'll get him back. I promise."

**2 Hours Earlier**

It was really dark, but that was probably because of the blindfold, he mused darkly. There was a second thick strip of cloth wound round his mouth, with another one wadded up between his lips, and he also noticed that his hands were cuffed behind him with handcuffs; they were most likely Morgan's cuffs, because Reid hadn't carried handcuffs since he had been taken by Tobias all those years ago.

'I hope Morgan's okay,' he thought desperately.

The van jumped over another pothole, and Reid's body leapt along with. He tried to shift his legs, confirming that they were bound tightly with what felt like rope. Same as with Emily, he reminded himself, his mind drifting back to the coroner's report that had been placed into the case file that was alphabetized in the box that was now sitting in Records at the BAU.

The case file on Emily Prentiss, in the box about suspect Ian Doyle.

Reid shifted his legs again, but this time they connected with another pair of legs. A voice with a thick Irish brogue cursed and Reid suddenly felt hands grasp his legs and pull him forward. He struggled, tying to move away from the strong hands and fingers that tried to hold him down, but they held fast. Someone straddled his waist and a second later, rough hands ripped off the blindfold, which, he realized, was a black cloth bag. Reid blinked for a moment, as someone had turned on a flashlight and had it pointed at his face.

His eyes met the startlingly blue eyes of a balding, older man, perhaps a few years older than Rossi or Gideon, who appeared clean-shaven and pale-skinned, who smiled down at him in a way that was clearly less-than-friendly.

'Hello, Doctor," Ian Doyle greeted.

A second later, Reid felt another needle being pressed into the side of his neck and within seconds, he drifted off into unconsciousness.

**45 Minutes Earlier**

When the remaining members of the BAU reached their conference room, they were surprised to find a familiar face waiting to greet them.

"Agent Hotchner," Clyde Easter greeted warmly. "Where do you want us to set up?"

Morgan stormed to the other man. "What the HELL do you think you're doing here?" he roared. "Do you think you can barge in here all cheery and British, thinking everything's all 'Pip-pip-cheerio' with us when we're looking for one of our team members who's gone missing! You're lucky I don't throw you into a cell and grill you on what you know, you son of a bitch!"

"Morgan," Hotch began.

"He's right, Agent Hotchner," Easter began grimly. "He has every right to be mad at me. Everything is not all "Pip-pip-cheerio,' as Agent Morgan put it, and I don't think it's going to get much better."

"What do you mean?"

"Ian Doyle had moles within the State Department and Interpol, and got hold of some information pertaining to the case we worked together in March. Some of that information included three aliases we gave to one of Doyle's surviving victims, as well as her official identification. When that information was exposed, we had no other choice but to collect the witness and bring her here."

JJ appeared to have put two and two together already. Her eyes almost narrowed as she looked at Easter. "Where is she?" she asked.

"Come in, Darling," Clyde called. "Some nice people here want to see you."

The team turned to see a hooded figure walking down the catwalk toward the conference room, her head down so as not to reveal her face. When she reached the head of the round table, she stopped. The five remaining team members stared. This figure…. There was something familiar about her….

"You can take your hood off," JJ said. "You're among friends."

Slowly, the hooded figure moved her hands to her hood, gently removing it from her head, twisting her head to release her long jet-black hair from the confines of the material.

The formerly hooded woman looked up at the four members of her former team with a calm gaze.

Clyde smiled gently at her. JJ and Hotch exchanged meaningful glances and slight smiles. Morgan, Garcia and Rossi looked stunned.

"Emily?"

….

_A/N: Hello..._

_And for anyone who is a fan of my AU, "Guardian Angels Are Protecting Me," I haven't abandoned that one yet... It's mostly writer's block and school blues; I did start that one during a major lull in classes (J-Term), and have continued it through another major lull in classes (Summer Session)... I just need to get into the swing of things, maybe plot out the last few chapters, and then I'll hopefully post something really soon. I promise!_

_Thank yous to my excellent reviewers greengirl82, criminallycharmed, starryeyes12, Unknown, Kiraclara, lolyncut, and ShazFriend! You guys are amazing! :D_

_Unknown: Thanks! I hope you like this chapter! ;)  
>ShazFriend: You're welcome, and I hope you liked it! :D<em>

_Please don't forget to review! I love you all!_

_Nine Days to Season 7!_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


	5. Chains of Neverending Agony

**_Hey..._**

**_So here's the final chapter of this first part of my trilogy; the first chapter of part 2 should be up soon, especially since I'm posting both at the same time... There's just the whole 'having to wait half a day to see it' thing going on._**

**_I'm not bothered..._**

**_Oh, and the text in italics is from the prologue, in case you're wondering!_**

**_Again, I don't own Criminal Minds!_**

….

_"They're coming for me, and you won't stand a chance when they arrive."_

_Doyle responded by whipping his gun from his belt and cracking it across the face of the person in front of him. "When they find you," he hissed at his bleeding, whimpering hostage. "You will either be dead, or my human shield to keep me alive."_

A moment later, he shoved the younger man back onto the bed.

"You're trying my patience," Doyle hissed.

The hostage on the bed let loose a hysterical laugh. "That's ironic, considering that from what I've experienced with you, it appears that you have no patience at all!"

Once again, Doyle cracked his gun across the man's face; he fell backwards, gasping as his head hit the mattress. Doyle grabbed the man's shirt with his free hand and pulled him back into a sitting position before placing the barrel of the gun against the man's temple.

"Do you have any idea how easy it would be to kill you," the Irishman growled into his captive's ear; the man's hair smelled of mint and he quivered in the older man's grasp. "Do you know how I could simply pull this trigger, and fill that precious brain of yours with lead and leave your carcass somewhere for them to find?"

"But you won't," was the other's reply, despite the fear that was clearly coursing through his body. "You need me. I don't know what it is exactly: Leverage, information or a free ticket out of a body bag. But it doesn't matter, because you aren't going to kill me. They're already closed ranks; it'll be impossible for you to grab someone else because they won't separate from the pack. They won't expose themselves."

"You did."

"That was an accident," the younger man replied. "A fluke; I happened to be alone. You came along, and I ran, and just happened to be set up right there, right in the perfect place for you to take me!"

Ian grabbed the younger man's chin in a bruising grip. "I'm glad it was you," he hissed. "I know that as soon as she realizes that I have you, she will come running to save you… And then I will kill her. And your team, too."

"And if she doesn't come?"

Ian Doyle smirked as he removed the blindfold from his hostage's face. "If Emily stays away, they will _never _find you." He stroked the other man's pale cheek tenderly, in a mocking form of the way a parent would comfort a crying child. "Your mind will be of great use to me if she doesn't come for you."

Spencer Reid smiled. "Oh, they will find me, Emily or no Emily," he whispered. "And I swear to God, that when they do, they will destroy you."

…

_A/N: Sorry it's so short! But part 2 is going up soon, so you won't have to wait long! :D_

_At least, I hope not..._

_Thanks to my awesome reviewers Kiraclara, greengirl82, hannahlovinCM, lolycut, and Dqu! Thanks for all your support! :D_

_Dqu: Thank you! I'm honored; I hope you come back for the next chapter, and the sequel; it's a trilogy (a la Lord of the Rings), so you'll get a series! Cool, eh? ;)_

_And don't forget to check out the sequel, called "Get Out Alive." Here's the summary: __Get Out Alive Trilogy Part 2: My Time of Dying: As a member of the team suffers at the hands of Ian Doyle, Emily helps the rest of the BAU plan the downfall of Ian Doyle. _

_It should be about 4-5 chapters; I know I won't get this series done before the beginning of Season 7, but I really hope you continue reading, no matter how far off the story is verses the actual episode. And Joe had said that it is a tearjerker... We may be needing Kleenex!_

_Please review the next chapter! I love you all very much and I hope to see you on board for the sequel! :)_

_*~N_CBAU~*_


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